


Gestures

by Nagem



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-24
Updated: 2011-03-24
Packaged: 2017-10-28 04:57:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nagem/pseuds/Nagem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"'Do you know what homophobia is?' 'What’s that got to do with any-' 'It’s the insecurity about one’s own sexual orientation.' I could practically feel his expression drop, despite his back facing me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gestures

It began with a gesture, and a rude gesture at that, to tell me that all of my previous thoughts had been wrong. I always figured that Frank Iero was a faggot. The clothes, the make-up, the way he acted around his friends… well, it all screamed _gay_ to me.

Of course, high school boys will be boys, running around and acting like they're faggots to get a laugh out of everybody. Frank Iero was one of those boys. He was practically the main one they all went to, hoping to get a quick laugh out of the other students. Picking people up, holding them, humping their backs, and cupping their asses, well, Frank was an _expert_ at that. So, it wasn't my fault he liked to mislead others; besides, I was one of his frequent victims of these random acts.

But, relying on my observations and my undeniable feelings, I went up to him after school, all the while trying to quiet down my beating heart. I leaned against the locker beside his own, staring at him, my bag over my shoulder. "Hey."

Frank closed his locker with a loud slam and turned his head towards me, scanning me, a smile growing on his face. "Hey, dude. What's up?"

I shrugged and started chewing on my lip. My heart was still racing, and I had to try and sort out my thoughts. In the meanwhile, Frank leaned against his locker, looking at me with stunning hazel-green eyes. I swallowed roughly and shook my head. "So… I was just wondering if you wanted to come over to my house tonight. Y'know, just to hang out and shit." I lowered my head, nodding nonchalantly. I raised up my hand, pretending to examine a fingernail, making it seem that my words were planned and not made up on the last minute. I flicked my gaze upward, towards his face. I shrugged again. "If you _want_ to. You don't have to."

Frank looked me over for a second or two, no doubt contemplating the situation. I practically felt my heart leap up into my throat when I saw his eyes sparkle and his smile. "Sure, man. Why the hell not?" He laughed and brought up his hand, smacking my shoulder. I smiled at him, my stomach churning.

"Awesome. So, come to my place around, let's say seven?"

"Alright. See you soon." He gave me a playful rub on the arm before turning on his heel and heading down the hallway. And, with my head held high, and a renewed jolt of optimism, I set off to my house, beginning to think up of a plan, to confirm my assumptions.

The doorbell rang at seven-thirty, signaling Frank's arrival. I bit my lip and slowly raised myself out of the living room chair. I carefully walked over to the front door, making my footsteps light, and not sure why. I reached out my hand, wrapped my fingers around the doorknob, and pulled open the door, smiling almost instantly.

Frank stood on the small front porch, looking off to the side in wait. I quickly scanned his appearance, taking it in. A pair of torn, skinny jeans, a white band t-shirt, a black, oversized sweat jacket that seemed to be lazily thrown on, and a worn out pair of black Converse shoes. Frank must have noticed my staring, for he turned his head, furrowing his eyebrows at my action. I shook my head and bit down on my lip, tightening my grip on the doorframe. "Oh, hey."

Frank laughed and shook his head, pushing me aside and walking inside. "Is that all you can say? 'Oh, hey'. Dude, you must have been expecting me, jeez." He gave an overdramatic roll of his eyes before turning around and staring at me. I shook my head, laughing softly.

"I'm sorry?" I said, my voice mixed in with my laugh.

"You better be sorry, you little fuckhole." He reached forward, shoving me. I laughed again, sighing.

"Come on; let's go down to my room."

"Your room's in the basement, right?"

"Yeah. Frank, you've been here before."

"Not in a while! Sheesh, can't blame a guy for forgetting, Gee." I resisted giggling at the little nickname he had given me. It started in sixth grade, when we first became friends. And now, five years later, it still stuck.

I lead Frank down to my room, ignoring the questioning from Mikey, my younger brother. I rolled my eyes. He could be such a pest.

Soon, we neared the bottom steps, and, like he used to, Frank jumped off from the fourth step down. I looked back at him, smiling. I turned my head back to the front, chewing on my lip nervously. I stopped in the middle of the room, looking around the dark space.

After a couple minutes of the silence, I heard a loud sigh come from behind me. "So, what do you wanna do?" Frank walked up from behind me and headed towards my bed, peeling off his sweat jacket while doing so. My gaze immediately dropped to the skin that had began to reveal its self when he raised up his arms. I cleared my throat awkwardly and looked off to the side. I tried to appear casual as I gave Frank a shrug of my shoulders. "I thought we could watch some movies, play video games, and listen to some music. You know, _hang out_ …" I lowered my gaze, biting my lip. I sounded so uncertain. I heard Frank's jacket make home on my floor as he turned around, facing me.

"You mean like old times?"

I raised up my head, staring at Frank. He had a hopeful expression on his face. "Yes, like old times." I smiled, causing him to smile, as well.

So, after debating on which of the choices I have given to do first, we had came to a decision to play some mindless horror games, while listening to the Misfits on the side. I had protested, saying that we wouldn't be able to hear the people's cries of pain when they got their brains eaten, but Frank had retorted back, reminding me that we always listened to the Misfits whenever he came over. I sighed, recognizing defeat.

As time passed, and we got more consumed with the game, I began to wonder as to how my plan was going to work out. I gave Frank a glance through the corner of my eye, and I saw him laughing softly as he chopped off a zombie's head. I bit my lip and turned my gaze back to the TV, not wanting Frank to notice that my full attention wasn't on the game.

Frank let out an angry growl as his character's arm and leg had been ripped off by a gang of zombies. He tossed the controller to the ground, causing me to wince at the thud. He groaned and rolled over on his stomach, burying his face in my bed. I frowned and carefully placed my controller on the ground, staring at Frank. I expected him to start yelling at me for not helping to defend him, but no yelling had come. I watched Frank with furrowed eyebrows and then a rough swallow. This was my chance, and possibly my only chance. I sucked in a breath and bit my lip.

I laid down in bed, trying to drown out the sound of the music with the sound of Frank's breathing. I carefully started to move closer towards the other, before I slowly extended my arm and placed my hand on Frank's hip. I felt him tense up in my touch, but I didn't pull my hand away. It felt right, to me. I breathed in and leaned forward, burying my head into Frank's neck.

After a few seconds of a harsh silence, Frank's voice interrupted it.

"Get the _hell_ off." He reached over and grabbed my arm, throwing it off. His gesture and words hurt, more than I ever imagined.

"W-What?" I stuttered out stupidly. My arm still laid a few inches away from Frank's skin, right where he had thrown it off of him.

" _Don't_ touch me like that."

I furrowed my eyebrows. "But I thought…"

"You thought what?" His tone came out harsh, and I found myself shrinking back. Frank turned over in bed, looking over at me with narrowed eyes. "You thought that I was a faggot? That I went for dick?" I remained silent, but my silence gave him my answer.

Frank laughed. He laughed at my naivety, at my ignorance, at my hopeful expression. He looked back at me, shaking his head with laughs, still. "You queer. I'm no way in hell gay. I'm sorry. I don't approve of that shit." He sat up in bed, crawling over to the other side of the bed.

I stared at him, throat tight with the threat of tears. "But, but, why do you act like that?"

He looked at me, narrowing his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

I frowned and held back a whimper. "At school, you act… like that with everybody."

Frank plopped down on the edge of the bed, swinging his feet over the edge. He laughed. "Dude, you're retarded. That's all an act. It don't mean shit." He shook his head.

"But why would you do that? And even then, after all that, you have the nerve to reject my advances on you, even though you've been making them on me for months," the thought stumbled out of my mouth, unexpected. But I've wanted to know the answer for I don't know how long.

Frank stared at me, a blank expression on his face. He finally shook his head, sliding off my bed. "I don't have time for this."

I could feel the tightening increase in my chest. I held my breath. "Do you know what homophobia is?"

Frank froze and looked ahead. He didn't turn around to face me. "What's that got to do with any-"

"It's the insecurity about one's own sexual orientation."

I could practically feel his expression drop, despite his back facing me. Frank slowly turned around, facing me. My feeling had been right; a look of fear was on his face. "Do you think I'm insecure?"

I remained silent. I chewed on my lip and lowered my head. I looked at the bed covers, the plain black color getting to my eyes, making my vision blurry. The Misfits' song 'Helena' rang in my ears, but the music was soon cut short. I raised up my head and looked at the stereo where the music had been coming from. Beside the device, was Frank. I studied him carefully, trying to get the hurt to leave my eyes.

"Gerard…"

Frank started towards me, getting on the bed, and cupped my neck. He dipped his head down and kissed me softly, causing all the negative thoughts to leave my head.

It started with a gesture, and it ended with a gesture. But this gesture, I was more proud of.


End file.
